


Don't Say a Word

by anthologia



Series: Age Reversal [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Batfamily Feels, Childhood Trauma, Clinging, Dick Grayson still likes hugs okay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mental Instability, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Running Away, Snowball Fight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 17:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4715111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthologia/pseuds/anthologia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Side stories to "If That Mockingbird Don't Sing". </p><p>Newest: pre-death, Tim and Kon talking about his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Winter Wonderland [Dick, Jason, Tim]

**Author's Note:**

> As the summary says, this is where side stories to "If That Mockingbird Don't Sing" go. They may or may not be entirely in continuity with the main story, depending on where it goes, but hey! More stories!
> 
> First one written for a tumblr prompt.

Dick’s first winter at the Manor is… an experience. The morning of the first snow day, Jason wakes up to the kid apparently trying to tug his arm off entirely (judging from the amount of energy he puts into it). “ _Jay_. Wake up! Come _onnnnn_ , Jay.”

“Oh my god just _shut up_ ,” he groans and tries to hide under his pillow. Dick still manages to drag him out of bed and downstairs, where they are intercepted by Alfred, who insists that they actually get dressed and have some breakfast before going outside. Jason could almost be grateful to the man if he didn’t also suggest Jason take the kid to a park. Like he didn't have anything else to do today.

Parks in Gotham are usually a pretty dicey affair, but the one closest to Wayne Manor benefits from a higher tax bracket and some generous donations by a certain resident billionaire. Jason finds a bench that’s dry-ish to sit down and fiddle with his phone while Dick burns off some energy. When he looks up to check on whether the kid’s turned into a Dickcicle yet, he curses himself for giving Dick as much leeway as he did, because Dick is currently beaming at him from behind his snow cover and packing together some ammunition.

Jason narrows his eyes. “Don’t you _dare_ throw that snowba–   _goddammit_!” Instead of the frontal attack he was expecting, something hits him on the neck from behind, icy and awful as it slides its way down.

“Should’ve been watching your back, Little Wing.”

Dick immediately abandons his strategic cover and throws himself at their older brother with a gleeful and way-too-loud cry of _TIM!!_ Tim looks down at him with an indulgent smile and ruffles his hair. (Jason should probably figure out what happened to the kid’s hat at some point. Dick was _definitely_ wearing one when they left the house.) “Hey, Circus Baby.”

It’s kind of weird, seeing Tim out in public like this, no costumes or whatever. If Jason squints, he can spot the edges of the Joker smile visible through the concealer on his face, but at a passing glance, he's just like any other nineteen-year-old jerk of an older brother lording it over his younger siblings. It makes him kinda wonder if this is what Tim would've looked like if he'd never died. “Well?" Tim says, dragging Jason out of his thoughts. "I fired the first shot. Are you going to just surrender without a fight?”

Jason rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop the grin that’s tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, hell no.”


	2. Such Stuff As Dreams Are Made On [Tim/Kon]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re not supposed to be here,” Tim says amiably. “Batman doesn’t like outside metas in Gotham.”
> 
> “You may not have heard this,” Kon says, “but Batman’s kind of a dick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt Tim/Kon, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." Takes place pre-death.

Superboy hovers in the air in front of him while Robin dangles his legs on the edge of the rooftop and sips from the coffee cup Kon brought him.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Tim says amiably. “Batman doesn’t like outside metas in Gotham.” 

“You may not have heard this,” Kon says, “but Batman’s kind of a dick.”

He waits patiently while Tim coughs out a mouthful of coffee. “He’s not that bad,” Tim gasps out, once he’s not actively choking.

“I call it like I see it.” Kon touches down lightly on the rooftop. “So. How was your night?”

Tim sighs. “Long. Awful. Every time I thought it was over, it’s like it all started again.”

Kon reaches out and squeezes his hand. “It’s almost over.”

“I know, I just – “ His eyes are tearing up. That’s no good. Tim wipes them dry with the back of his hand. They sting now, but they’re not wet. That’s better. “I just wish I could see you again.”

Kon’s eyes crinkle a little when he’s confused. It’s cute. “…Tim?” 

“Not to be rescued. I gave up on that a while ago. I just want to see you one more time.” There’s a wind whipping around the rooftops, making it hard to stand up, but he manages it anyway. Staying that way is harder; trying to breathe the air is making him dizzy and unsteady on his feet. 

“I’m… I’m _right here_ , Tim.” Kon reaches out to steady him, but it doesn’t work. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Tim giggles, a high-pitched, unnatural noise. “No, see, Kon – that’s the _joke_. You’re not _going_ anywhere because you’re _not_ anywhere.”

“Junior!” the Joker calls out jovially from where he’s been theatrically reading a newspaper (upside-down) for the past ten minutes. “What do you have for your old man? We don’t keep punchlines secret in this house, remember.”

Tim nods, serenely. He remembers. The detonator fits nicely into the palm of his acid-bleached hand, and he’d be smiling even if the upturned lips weren’t carved into his face. “Knock-knock.”

Harley peeks her head out of the section of the warehouse that’s been outfitted as a kitchen and sing-songs, “ _Whoooooo’s_ there?!” 

_Boom._


	3. And Now For Something Completely Different [Batkids]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out-of-continuity fic filling a request for the age reversal Batkids to meet the canon ones.
> 
> Minor reference to implied, non-explicit self-injury and events leading to both Tim and Jason's deaths.

Tim – this Tim – is older, probably around Jason’s age, not much taller than _his_ Tim. His cheeks are split in a mockery of a smile that echoes the Joker’s, and just – it’s _wrong_. It _hurts_ to look at this Tim. Dick feels it like a physical ache in his chest, seeing his little brother fractured like this. You’d think that maybe he could handle this better after – after Jason, but no.

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ ,” Jason says, sounding every inch as horrified as Dick feels right now. “Replacement?”

Tim grins like he knows the punchline to a joke they haven’t started yet. “Hey, Little Wing. Circus Baby.”

“Tim, what _happe–_ “ Dick starts to say, then stops when Jason grabs his wrist, viciously digging his thumb into a nerve bundle that makes Dick’s hand go a little bit numb.

“ _Don’t,”_ Jason grits out. “Just – don’t.”

\--

Tim is calm and cool and collected and has a ten-year-old Dick Grayson clinging to his legs.

“Tim! What’s it like here? Why’d you decide to be Red Robin? Can you teach me some of the stuff you do with your staff? Is older me the best big brother ever? Or is he the _greatest_ big brother ever?”

“He’s pretty great,” Tim says and tries to ignore the pang of – _something_. He’s not lying. Dick is a great big brother, and the tension that hasn’t quite gone away since he gave Robin to Damian doesn’t change that. “And maybe. If you’ll let me move my legs again.”

“Don’t tell Dami but you’re my _favorite_ ,” Dick says, only muffled slightly by the way he’s smashed his face up against Tim.

Tim coughs into his hand to hide his smile.

\--

“I don’t understand how you put up with these imbeciles,” the echo of Damian’s ten-year-old self says with a sniff. “If Father had found me _first,_ he wouldn’t have needed any of them.”

Jason’s face freezes for a second, and Damian steps in hurriedly to break off whatever disaster is about to occur before any damage is done. “Jason, find Richard and ensure he hasn’t run away or broken anything.”

“But – “

“ _Now_ ,” Damian says sharply, but he lets his hand rest on Jason’s shoulder for a moment before the teenager follows his instructions.

His younger self opens his mouth, doubtless planning to spout more pieces of _wisdom_ from his ten-year-old conceit of the world. Damian speaks first. “You will grow to appreciate them. You will do so or you will lose them and be left with the regret for the rest of your life.”

\--

“So, like… you run a team now?” Steph asks. It’s still kind of weird to see her old self wearing the Spoiler costume, but she makes it look – less childish. More adult.

“With Black Canary and Huntress, yeah,” older Steph says.

Steph grins and bumps fists with her adult self. “Future me is _awesome_.”

\--

“We are leaving,” Damian announces.

Cassandra glances up at him from the strategy card game she’s playing with her other self. She doesn’t have to speak for him to extrapolate that she’s telling him his intentions are noble, but how does he intend to follow through?

He crosses his arms. He doesn’t enjoy being questioned, even when he _technically_ hasn’t been. “I have found a suitable method for returning us to our universe. Where are Richard, Jason, and Stephanie?”

“Yo,” Stephanie says. She’s dragging Jason behind her, who’s half-paying attention and half-sorting through a stack of cards from the same game the Cassandras were enjoying. A moment later, Richard appears, accompanied by an unfamiliar red-haired woman in a wheelchair. For once, he’s actually _quiet_ and staring at her with a kind of awe that is… _concerning_.

Richard beams up at him. “Damian, this is Barbara. Barbara, this is Damian.”

 _Barbara_. To his knowledge, none of them are close to a Barbara at this point, but Damian quietly files the name away in his mind, _just in case_. “I will send you four through first and accompany Timothy.”

“Maybe I should – “ Steph starts to say, but Richard interrupts loudly with “ _I’ll_ talk to him.” He stares up at Damian defiantly. “He’ll come with me if I ask.”

It’s probably true, but Damian is loathe have Richard speak to Timothy alone right now. He sighs. “We’ll both go.”

\--

The elder Richard is with the elder Timothy, albeit remaining at somewhat of a distance. Damian has been… _avoiding_ him to an extent, avoiding all the alternate members of his family. A part of him is pleased to see Richard flourished as an adult, but seeing their elder Jason awakens an ache deep in Damian’s heart, and Timothy is –

He can’t bring himself to see the other Timothy. Only pain would come of it.

Timothy has curled up in a corner of the room, his head bowed and pressed tightly between his arms. Richard runs forward and takes a seat next to him, immediately starting up a chatter to draw Timothy out of his self-imposed shell.

“The Joker had Jason for a night,” the elder Richard says, quietly. “He beat him near to death and then blew up the building.”

Timothy laughs, too loud, at something their Richard said. The sound is a half-strangled mixture of Timothy’s own natural laugh and the Joker’s.

“I don’t want to know how long he had Tim for, do I?”

“No,” Damian says.

The younger Richard stands and pulls Timothy to his feet as well. Timothy is holding his arm somewhat oddly; having to face the reality of a universe where Tim Drake was never taken by the Joker, had never died and come back to life, had been –

He hadn’t taken it well.

The elder Richard places his hands on Damian’s shoulders and presses down slightly until he’s at the right height to press a kiss to the top of Damian’s head. “Take care of them, okay, Dami? Tim and Cass and Jason.” Richard starts to smile. “I’d say little me, too, but we both know he’s a lost cause.”

For a moment, Damian finds himself wondering what it would have been like, growing up with Richard as an elder brother. But it does him no good to wonder, and the moment passes. “I will.”

“So, we heading back to Kansas now?” Timothy asks. “Cause I’m pretty over Oz right now. No offense,” he adds to the elder Richard, who offers an airy smile that’s all brightness and no substance and murmurs, _none taken_.

“Yes,” Damian says.

“Cool.” Timothy ruffles the younger Richard’s hair. “Come on, Munchkin. There’s no place like home.”


	4. Safety Net [Dick & Damian]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: Ooooh! Ooh! I would love to see, "Please come get me." With parental Bruce/Tim? Or Dick/Damian? :3 <3

Damian finds Richard in the small, temporary office, curled up in a chair in as small a ball as he can manage. There’s an employee trying to talk to him, but he’s hiding somewhere inside himself and won’t come out for her.

Damian nods to the woman. “I’m his older brother. I will handle the situation from here.”

If he had been anyone else, she would likely have required proof before handing off a minor, but the Waynes are very well-known, even if their newest and youngest charge hasn’t spent enough (or any) time in the public eye yet to be easily recognized. Instead, she murmurs something to Richard and steps just outside the door.

Damian crouches next to Richard’s chair. “Richard?”

“Dami?” Richard unfolds from his protective curl just enough to see again. He looks miserable and has clearly been crying. “’m sorry.”

“We’ll be forced to chip you if you keep running away,” Damian says, although he keeps his voice gentle. Lecturing is not what Richard needs right now, although it _is_ a bit ridiculous that a child somehow keeps successfully running from _their_ family. His talent for slipping away at times when no one’s paying particular attention to him is a skill that would serve him well if and when he should step into the Robin mantle, but for now, it just makes caring for him more _difficult_.

“’m not one of your pets,” Richard says, but he uncurls a little more.

“I’m well aware of that.” _They_ are much better at following the rules; although Richard does, on occasion, remind him of an extremely energetic puppy. “If you’d wanted to attend a circus, you should have asked one of us.”

“I just wanted to see.” Richard swipes at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. “I didn’t think that – “

“I understand.” Damian doesn’t need the full story to guess what happened: Richard saw something that reminded him too strongly of his former home, his parents, or the manner of their death, and it overwhelmed him. If he’d asked any of the family, they could have forestalled the inevitable disaster or at least cushioned the blow somewhat. As it is, he supposes he’s thankful that Richard at least thought to seek help at all.

After Richard’s had another few moments to collect himself, Damian adds, “I believe that Pennyworth was baking when I left. If you are ready to return to the Manor, we may arrive in time to sample the results.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Richard wipes at his face one more time and launches himself at Damian for a hug. Damian, fully expecting this, wraps his arms around the child automatically. “Thanks. For coming and getting me.” Richard’s honestly too old to be carried around at this point, but Damian has no difficulty turning the hug into a lift and carrying him outside.

“Of course. Any time you need my help, I will come for you.”

(It’s a promise he has no intention of breaking. He learned his lesson about the fragility of younger siblings, and it is not one that he would forget easily.)


	5. Just Thinking (Tim/Kon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt Tim/Kon, “I just want to be numb, I don’t want to feel anything.” 
> 
> Takes place pre-death.

“It’s not like they’re _family_ ,” Tim’s saying, his gaze dull and far away. “I’m just _Robin_. Wanting it to be more is just – it’s stupid, right? It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Kon says.

Tim shrugs, the little half-smile on his face that he gets when he thinks Kon is just lying to be nice. (Kon hates that smile.) “I already have a family. I should just be grateful for that. Besides, Bruce and Damian are – they’re _father and son_. I could never measure up to that.”

 _They’re assholes_ , Kon wants to say, _they don’t know what they’re missing,_ but he knows it won’t do any good. Instead, he curls his TTK around Tim, tugging him up against his chest. Tim gives a little amused huff but goes along with it willingly, letting himself be rearranged. “You have me.”

“I know.” Tim smiles up at him, sweet and sad, and Kon has no choice but to dip his head down to kiss him. When it’s over, Tim lets out a sigh and rests his head back against Kon’s chest. “It’s just,” he says, and Kon just _knows_ he’s going to hate what’s about to come out but what can he do but listen? “Sometimes, I think it would be easier if I didn’t have to feel anything. If I was just – numb. You know?”

Yeah. Kon knows. And it scares the hell out of him. “That wouldn’t be better.”

“I know,” Tim says with a sigh. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I want to listen to you talk,” Kon says. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but I love you.” And maybe he can’t love Tim enough to make up for everything else, but he can _try_.

Tim grins up at him again, looking a little less sad this time, and really, that’s all Kon can ask for. “I love you, too.”


	6. Big Bro to the Rescue [Jason, Dick, Tim]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

He’s not stupid or oblivious. Jason’s been training with Bruce and Damian for a couple years now, and when he notices the guys casually arranging themselves to surround them, he can see the next few minutes choreographing themselves out in full HD. He squeezes Dick’s hand and carefully doesn’t look at anyone. “Dick, when I say go, run. Okay?”

Dick squirms in Jason’s hold and cranes his neck to look around them. “What’s wrong?”

“Just do it, okay?” Jason shoves a hand into his pocket and feels the smooth, sharp birdarangs he’d stuck in there before going out. He’s not really supposed to be carrying obvious Bat-equipment in his civilian identity, but screw that. Plenty of kids have picked these things up, anyway.

He yells “GO!” at the same time he flings two of the birdarangs at the closest would-be kidnappers. Dick takes off like a stone released from a slingshot, diving past two guys and jumping off the last guy’s shoulders, using him as a springboard to reach a nearby balcony. He’s out of reach, but Jason shouts at him to keep running anyway before concentrating his attention on not getting kidnapped himself. The first guy to come close enough gets a faceful of Jason’s backpack and a vicious kick in the crotch. Then he hears the click of a gun cocking and instinctively hits the ground and rolls behind the nearest cover he can find. The first gunshot is _loud_ , too close to him, and quickly followed by five more. He peeks out when there’s silence, hoping that whoever was shooting ran out of bullets or has to reload or something, anything to give him a little time—

“It’s okay, Little Wing,” the Red Hood says. There’s six guys on the ground, each one bleeding, mostly from the head but a couple from the chest, and probably about to be dead if they aren’t already. The closest one is barely two feet away. Jason swallows against the queasy feeling in his stomach. “You’re safe.”

Yeah. Safe. Jason pushes himself to his feet.

“You, too, Dick,” the Red Hood calls out.

Dick’s head pops up over the top of the balcony railing. “Tim…?”

“Yeah, Circus Baby.” The Red Hood checks that the safety is back on his gun before tucking it away, then steps closer to the balcony and holds out his arms. “You can come down now.”

Dick looks at the bodies on the ground, and then to Jason. He hesitates.

“Take the helmet off,” Jason says.

Tim does, after a moment, setting it on the ground. He’s not wearing the makeup he sometimes has that hides the scars on his face, and it’s—creepy, a little, like it always is to see, but there’s something like relief in the way Dick looks down at him now. “You can jump, Dick. I’ll catch you.”

It’s not that far a drop. Tim lets out an _oomph_ sound as Dick lands, but he catches him and holds onto him for a few seconds while Dick clings before setting him down. “There’s a coffee shop about a block away,” Tim says to Jason. “Take Dick. Call the police and wait there.”

Jason grabs Dick and manhandles him a little so he’s facing away from the bodies. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m not sticking around.” Tim sets the Red Hood helmet back over his head. “Stay safe, Little Wing. Circus Baby.”

“Yeah.” Jason almost says _thanks_ , but the word sticks in his throat. Instead, he starts walking and hurries Dick along with him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are interested in my fics and want more, I have an account at syntactition.tumblr.com where I have bits of stories that are currently in the works and other ficlets and stories that haven't made their way to AO3.


End file.
